Love and Power
by Gamma Orionis
Summary: Narcissa is the one person that Rodolphus can feel like he has power over. That's what he loves most about her. Written for Couture Girl.


Author's Notes: A birthday gift for my dearest, most darling Couture Girl, who requested Rodolphus/Narcissa. As per our head!canon, some Rodolphus/Rabastan and unrequited!Rodolphus/Bellatrix managed to work its way in.

I hope you enjoy it!

)O(

Rodolphus wasn't gentle with Narcissa when he dragged her out of one of the Malfoys' far-too-regular parties, nor did he give any consideration to what people would think if they saw him with her. And people did see, he made no mistake – he could feel their eyes on him, probably thinking _what _is_ Bellatrix Lestrange's husband doing with her sister?_

_Let them think. Let them gossip._

He shoved Narcissa up against a wall, barely out of earshot of the ballroom, and before she could say a word, his lips were pressed on hers and his hands clenched down on her breasts. She trembled and gasped for air, and he could feel her breathing quickening, straining against her corset. He loved the way she gasped for breath. He liked to be reminded of how delicate she was. Her waist was so thin that his hands nearly spanned it, and he could have snapped her in half with one too-sudden movement.

_Good. That reminds her of her place._

"Want you… now…" he mumbled, but she was already hitching up her skirts with one hand while she wrapped the other arm around his shoulders to press herself more closely to him. He put his hand between her thighs and rubbed it against her, making her moan and whimper and writhe for him, so deliciously, so helplessly.

So different from his other lovers.

Bellatrix would never have let him touch her like that. She couldn't _ever_ let him dominate her – no, she always had to be the one pinning _him_ to the wall and laughing at him when he squirmed, or else she lay still and limp underneath him, with closed eyes, and he _knew_ she was thinking about the Dark Lord.

And Rabastan – Rabastan was something else altogether. The thought of him brought a flush of heat to Rodolphus's face (_and elsewhere_). Rodolphus couldn't just be his lover, couldn't just _fuck_ him, he always had to be his brother first and hold him close and kiss him when it was over. He couldn't be rough with him. He couldn't hurt him. It always had to be _lovemaking_ with Rabastan, and that was even before the guilt set in…

But there was no guilt with Narcissa, even if, perhaps, there should have been. It was still infidelity, what he did with her, but there were no other crimes associated with it – not like with Rabastan. And being unfaithful with Narcissa felt better than being faithful to Bellatrix.

"Rod…" Narcissa moaned, and he felt her delicate hands scrabbling at his shoulders, searching for a grip to give her better leverage against him. He could sense her desperation, practically _taste_ it.

"Malfoy never does this for you, I suppose?" he hissed, holding her in place against the wall while he undid the fastenings on his trousers. "He's never rough with you like this?"

"He's nothing like you," Narcissa told him, her voice thick with passion. "_Nothing_."

"Good."

He thrust into her and she stifled a moan against his shoulder. Her hair was coming loose from the knot that it had been drawn into, and pale tendrils were sticking to her forehead and cheeks. She felt tight and hot around him – _as good as always, and even better because it would be so easy for them to be caught, for her reputation to be ruined…_

The sense of risk aroused Rodolphus, it always had. Knowing that Narcissa was risking disgrace for him when he knew that she was aware of the possibility of disgrace, and that it frightened her reminded him of how much she adored him.

How much power he had over her.

Power he didn't have over anyone else.

"I love you, Rod, I love you so much," she panted, in between frantic kisses, and he didn't respond in kind, only grunted wordlessly and closed his eyes. He could imagine that it was Bellatrix he was fucking like this, and even if Narcissa aroused him, Bellatrix did so infinitely more.

_Because he couldn't have her. Because she belonged to the Dark Lord._

"I'd- do _anything_- for you," Narcissa whispered, and with his eyes closed, Rodolphus could imagine that it was Bellatrix who was saying it.

"Say it again."

And so she repeated it, her voice increasing in pitch every time, and Rodolphus's body responding more every time, until he spilled into her, eliciting one last cry of, "_Anything, Rodolphus!_"

Narcissa clung to him while he breathed heavily, enjoying the aftermath, the sudden quiet, the rescinding heat.

"I love you," she whispered.

He opened his eyes and put his hand on her cheek.

"I love you too, Cissa," he told her, and it was only half a lie.

_Well, perhaps a little more than half._

)O(

_Fin_


End file.
